Through the Storm
by slightlysmall
Summary: "I love you. You know this. But they're just words. They're beautiful, but they're not warm enough to keep out the cold." The rain beat against the window of the classroom, and lightning struck nearby. The thunder followed in an instant. "You're right," he said. "It's not enough. But it's a start, isn't it?"


**Written for xPerfectlyImperfect's Perfectly Challenging Competition with the title, the pairing, the lyrics "This ain't goodbye/This is just where love goes/When words aren't warm enough to keep away the cold" from This Ain't Goodbye by Train, and the prompts nostalgia, thunder, and "Poor is the soul whose pleasure depends upon the permission of another" - Madonna. I used both the lyrics and the quote loosely.**

**Also for Camp Potter Paintball, Week 8 - write about a source of happiness during the war.**

**Also for Quidditch, round 3, with the pairing Anthony/Padma and the prompts "When the war ends, what does it look like exactly?", towels, and bruises.**

**Word Count**: 1509

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_Through the Storm _

The weather had gotten worse. Finally, Padma thought as she looked out the window in Ravenclaw Tower, the outside matched the mood of the castle. November had come with too much hurting, too many bruises on the arms of the students, for the clear blue skies they'd been having. Padma was Head Girl, and she felt personally responsible for every beating and every bruise.

"It's not your fault," Anthony said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "You aren't the Carrows and you haven't hurt anyone."

She turned around, close to him, not letting his arms let her go for an instant. She rested her head against his sturdy chest. "You always know what I'm thinking."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "You're my girlfriend. It's my job. Do you want to go for a walk? Talk about it?"

"But it's after hours."

He grinned. "Prefect duty, right? We're only performing our services to keep the school safe."

"You're a genius."

"Well, they did put me in Ravenclaw." Padma allowed herself to laugh, but thunder roared outside and sobered her. There was a war being fought inside this castle, and she couldn't let herself be happy.

Anthony took her hand and they left their Common Room together. Several times she looked over at him, so strong and stoic at her side, and opened her mouth to speak. But she couldn't find anything to say. In dark times, every word needed weight, and nothing was important enough.

Without direction, they ended up in a disused classroom on the eighth floor. During fifth year, they had come here together to practice defensive spells for the D.A. It was in this room their friendship began to have the uncomfortable undertones of something more. Tonight, Padma conjured some cushions and set them beside the unlit fireplace.

She sat next to him and held his hand, but still didn't say anything. Eventually, Anthony turned to her, his eyes were cloudy with concern. "You haven't been talking much. Are you upset with me? Did the Carrows do something to you?"

Padma focused on letting air into and out of her lungs. "No, Anthony. It's not that. I'm not upset, and I haven't gotten hurt yet. It's just... you make me so happy. How can I let myself be happy when there is so much that's wrong? I feel like my happiness makes it seem like the suffering of other students doesn't matter to me."

"Padma, you can't let your happiness depend on someone else giving you permission." He pulled her close and kissed her forehead, then her nose. Her head still on his shoulder, he said, "Neville wants us to be fighting, right?"

"I'm not brave enough to fight like him. I'm not Gryffindor like my sister."

"You don't have to be. What I mean is that there is more than one way to rebel. The Carrows are trying to make life miserable for us. Why can't we fight them by being happy together?"

"I don't know. I'm just not sure."

"What aren't you sure about?"

"I love you. You know this. But they're just words. They're beautiful, but they're not warm enough to keep out the cold." The rain beat against the window of the classroom, and lightning struck nearby. The thunder followed in an instant.

"You're right," he said. "It's not enough. But it's a start, isn't it?"

Padma remembered her start at Hogwarts - her initial fear of separation from her sister, the way they both eventually found their own identities. She wouldn't be proud to have remained the person she was at eleven. But she was so pleased to have once been that person. Now, a beginning, even an imperfect one, would have to suffice. "Yes. It is a start."

She leaned in to kiss him and made herself forget everything. The beatings and bruises and detentions of younger Ravenclaw students were pushed from her mind. It took work for Padma, who thought about everything, and probably too much, but she let herself get lost in the feeling of her lips against his, her hand on the skin beneath his shirt, his hands exploring.

Forgetfulness and bliss were really not all too different.

Out of breath and uncomfortable, Padma pulled away from him and picked up her discarded shirt from nearby. "We should go."

"Already?" The air of authority he took around other students was gone. His guard was down and he simply looked like a man in love.

"I don't want to, either, but we should."

He grumbled, sitting up and mumbling as he threw on his jumper. "Padma Patil, is now really the time to be sensible?" But he didn't argue with her.

In the hallway on the way back to their Common Room, they were not as cautious as they could have been. Padma let her happiness take over, and her laughter echoed around the stone walls as they spoke. "Who's there?"

Padma recognized Crabbe's voice immediately and her voice caught in her throat. It was okay. They had a plan. "It's Padma and Anthony," she called, trying to sound sure of herself. "On Prefect duty."

"It was Draco and Pansy's turn tonight, I thought."

"Well, they lied," she said, surprising herself with her confidence in her own bluff.

"No they didn't. I saw their names on the schedule. In your handwriting, I think."

Padma didn't feel like staying to argue. She grabbed Anthony's hand and ran blindly in the opposite direction. Though she'd seen the punishments of many other students, so far she had avoided punishment herself, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Crabbe's agility was nothing to theirs and soon they had outpaced him enough to slow down, but not to be entirely sure of their safety. Ahead of them, Padma saw the door to the Prefects' bathroom. She looked at Anthony, but his face was already turned expectantly toward her. They nodded, slightly, and raced to the door.

"Nostalgia," Padma said, panting, and the door opened. Inside, however, the floor was wet and slippery. Someone else had used the bath too recently and hadn't cleaned up or let the water out of the tub. The momentum from their run carried them across the floor and they tripped, still holding hands, into the gigantic bathtub.

It took Padma a moment to gather her bearings and start treading water, but when she did, and saw Anthony floating beside her, his hair matted to his face, she let herself laugh. Throwing her head back until her hair dipped into the water, she felt free. The more she thought about the last few minutes, the more she laughed. Her giggles grew into something uncontrollable and Anthony was at her side, holding her up and keeping her from falling as she shook.

"Are you okay?"

"Never better," she said, standing up in the bathwater to kiss him.

He pulled away. "Maybe we should get dried off - and out of these wet clothes."

She grinned and followed him up the steps to a rack of towels. "Now, we could cast a drying spell and be fine. Or we could dry off the old-fashioned way."

He kissed her and helped her out of her jumper. "The old-fashioned way sounds perfect."

Padma had never enjoyed drying off so much.

By the time they finally left the bathroom, Padma wasn't worried at all about people on patrol. She and Anthony held hands, but remained silent, on the journey back to their Common Room. Outside the storm was still just as loud, but suddenly it didn't seem so ominous.

"You'll probably want to sleep," Anthony said as they reached the familiarity of Ravenclaw Tower.

Padma shrugged. "We've stayed up this late. I've always wanted to stay up all night doing something besides homework. If you're up for it, I would love to just stay up and talk with you."

"I'd like that, too."

Their hours didn't feel grueling, like they did when completing coursework. Instead, it was a pleasure to remain awake with Anthony at her side, and while they already were open in their communication, no subject was left unturned that evening. They spoke of school and relationships, but inevitably, the conversation turned back to their current circumstances.

"When the war ends, what does it look like exactly?"

"For the Wizarding World, or for us?"

"Both, I guess."

"That depends on who wins. And whether or not it's obvious that You-Know-Who takes over. It would mean the war is already won, but we would still be fighting. He isn't the type to overthrow. He would rule gradually, so we would hardly notice."

"That's almost more frightening than a takeover."

"That's the point."

She leaned into him, letting his weight support her. "What about us, though? What will happen to us after the war?"

"As long as I can have something to do with it, nothing will change. I love you, Padma."

"I love you, too," she replied, and suddenly those words felt warm enough to bring them through the storm.


End file.
